


there's a hole in my soul

by dragonharps (StarlightNyx)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Female Character of Color, Character Study, F/F, Past Braeden/Derek Hale, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-18 23:19:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4723991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlightNyx/pseuds/dragonharps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Braeden hates her scars.</p><p>For Teen Wolf Femslash Bingo prompt Braeden/Marin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	there's a hole in my soul

**Author's Note:**

> title is from 'flaws' by bastille.

Braeden hates her scars.

They're ugly. Snakelike and slithering across her throat as an unwanted memory of the time an Alpha had tried to slit her neck with his eyes glittering, a red gleam to them, and the pain of three claws scraping on her skin; the squelch of the blood.

Derek had called her a survivor because of them. Marin doesn't call her anything because of them, and it's somewhat of a relief when her fingers skirt over Braeden's neck and her lips purse but no words fall out.

It's a relief to not have her neck ogled, to have Marin's touch there as gentle and hesitant as everywhere else. What a compliment it had been then to have Derek whisper honeyed words into her ears, then hoist her up and kiss the breath right out of her. Now, being called a 'survivor' and wearing the marks proudly on her skin grates her the wrong way.

Marin doesn't… Marin doesn't care so much as she _ignores_ it, and Braeden knows that she wants to say something about it. She was a counselor at a high school with all of those teenagers with low self-esteem, after all, but Braeden doesn't need a therapist.

She's not a freshman in college with an ego smaller than her amount of boyfriends and girlfriends. She's not a child with a mud-splattered dress and the taunts of her classmates shadowing over her.

She doesn't hate herself, far from it. It's just her scars that she can't stand to look at, that she'd cover with a scarf if she could.

“You're alright,” Marin has to assure her sometimes at night when she's shaking and all the breath has left her like that day in the locker room, taking her hand and curving into her. “You're alright.”

And Braeden isn't afraid to cry. In front of Marin, she's more confident than she's ever been, her worries unfurled and free, sobs bursting free from her chest.

Marin just strokes her hair through it and they lay there, neither sleeping but neither talking about it.

In the morning, Braeden kisses her forehead and smiles down upon Marin, and neither of them worry about the unknown but eventual doom that's sure to loom down on them and the McCall pack. And Braeden still hates the twist in her gut and the way the heavy lines across her neck always catch her attention in the mirror, but—

She can deal with it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is cisphobicbucky.


End file.
